


I just want to fold you up and keep you warm

by csmithman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, lance has so much love to give, probably inaccurate crafting, red the hamster is my fave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 12:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csmithman/pseuds/csmithman
Summary: Lance makes the hammock. Pure fluff, no plot.





	I just want to fold you up and keep you warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zenstrike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenstrike/gifts).
  * Inspired by [and every song’s about you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027772) by [zenstrike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenstrike/pseuds/zenstrike). 



> I finally got off my ass and wrote this for the amazing Zenstrike, who makes my life complete. I hope you like it!
> 
> Title from "Moscow" by Autoheart

The idea came to him one day, almost randomly. Lance was watching TV and saw a commercial for some resort or other, all tropical vibes and sandy beaches and relaxation. It looked nice.

 

The final scene of the commercial showed two unnaturally tan, smiling people lying in a hammock together as it swung gently. He thought about swinging in a hammock with Keith. He thought about taking Keith to the beach, imagined teasing him about sunblock for that pale skin, wondered if Keith would like to collect shells, dreamed about a hammock and sandy shores…

 

Literally dreamed, as it turned out. Lance woke up with a start, the TV still playing in the background and considerably less light in the room than he’d remembered. Oops. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he couldn’t find it in him to regret it at that moment. Not with that pleasant dream still lingering, just out of sight.

 

Lance chased that dream, wanting to keep that pleasant feeling. The hammock had been so cozy, Keith had been warm at his side…

 

A squeaking noise on the other side of the room interrupted his daydream. As Lance ruefully left behind all thoughts of sandy shores and vacations, he looked at Red. It was late enough in the day that she was starting to wake up and go about doing whatever it is hamsters do to entertain themselves.

 

Lance smiled. He may not be lounging in paradise, but he had a paradise of his own, he thought, here with Keith and Red in their little apartment. It was their own little world, and when he thought of the past, thought of how it had all happened, thought of Red and how she’d changed his life, he couldn’t wish for anything else.

 

And  _ that’s _ when the idea came to him. Red deserved the world, deserved to be happy and cozy and every other pleasant feeling Lance had been enjoying. Red deserved a  _ hammock _ , and by quiznak he was going to make her one.

 

Thus the idea of the hamster hammock took root.

 

* * *

 

When Lance returned from the library the next day, arms full of books on crafts, Keith gave him a  _ look _ . After quickly explaining his idea, Lance gave his full focus to the books on the table in front of him, not giving Keith another thought.

 

He had a mission to complete.

 

Looking at the various books, Lance tried to figure out just  _ how  _ he was going to make a hammock for a tiny hamster. It didn’t seem easy, but he was determined to give Red the cozy dream. Pushing aside a book on knitting, he found what he was looking for:  _ Macramé All Day _ , a cheesy looking book with a cheesy sounding title and cheesy words accompanied by cheesy pictures. But the cover showed a wall hanging made of knotted cord vaguely reminiscent of a hammock, and “hammock” was in the index, page 97, apparently, so he decided to give it a chance.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Lance was determined not to get overwhelmed. Macramé, apparently, was all about forming knots out of rope, and it  _ was  _ indeed possible to make a macramé hammock. But first he needed rope.

 

He yelled out to Keith that he needed to go to the craft store to buy yarn -- yarn was softer than rope, Red deserved yarn, soft wooly yarn -- and headed out. He’d taken a picture of the instructions in the book, and apparently he needed a  _ lot  _ of yarn. He might need even more, actually.

 

Lance pondered the question as he boarded the bus and made the trip across town to go to the store. Would he need to use more yarn to make the hammock strong? Yarn wasn’t quite as strong as rope, so that made sense. Maybe he should double the materials listed in the book.

 

Sometime later Lance returned to the apartment, arms full. He had two bags full of skeins of yarn, all various shades of red, of course. He also had a few small things that had caught his eye, like a scented candle that was supposed to smell like the ocean, but really just smelled like salt. It was blue, though, and seemed to go with the beachy vibes he’d been feeling lately, so he bought it. He’d also grabbed one of those adult coloring books that were near the registers, since he’d heard they were good for stress, and finals were getting closer every day, and anyway it seemed like something fun he and Keith could do together.

 

Keith was on the couch, reading, when Lance came in. He eyed the bags in Lance’s arms and sighed, not saying anything but raising one eyebrow very eloquently. No words were needed, an entire volume being expressed, and Lance grinned sheepishly.

 

“I got the yarn,” he explained.

 

“How…  _ much  _ yarn?” Keith asked, sounding bewildered.

 

Lance looked at the two bags that were practically bursting with yarn.

 

“Well, I wanted to make sure it was secure, so I bought twice as much as what the book called for. That way it’s going to be strong enough, since it’s not rope.”

 

“You bought twice as much as what the book called for,” Keith said, a strange tone in his voice.

 

“Yes?” Lance answered, but it was more of a question.

 

“To make the hamster-hammock for Red,” Keith continued.

 

Again -- “yes?” -- from Lance.

 

“The  _ hamster-sized hammock _ ,” Keith emphasized.

 

“Yeah, why --  _ oh _ ,” Lance said, finally catching on. The book instructions were for a human-sized hammock. Red needed a much smaller hammock.

 

_ Oh. _

 

As he looked at the piles and piles of yarn he’d erroneously purchased, Lance grimaced. Keith looked amusedly exasperated, eyebrow still raised as if to say “you’re lucky you’re cute, you know” as Lance realized his mistake.

 

“Well, there’s extra in case I mess up!” Lance exclaimed, determined to look on the bright side. “And my mom knows how to crochet! I’ll get her to teach me and then I’ll make you a scarf, all red, just for you.”

 

Keith finally stopped fighting his mirth, busting out in laughter at the situation. Lance joined in, putting down the bags and curling up close to his boyfriend. Keith’s laughter was pure, happy delight, and Lance always loved to hear it, even if it was at his expense. There was no malice, though. Lance didn’t feel judged, or mocked. He felt happy.

 

Curled up against Keith, who was still shaking with laughter, Lance thought about Keith in a pretty red scarf. Maybe there’d be enough yarn -- he certainly bought a lot -- to make more than one scarf. Maybe he could make one for himself and one for Red, and they could all take a family picture together.

 

Curled up against Keith, thinking of family pictures, thinking of  _ their family _ , Lance felt at home.

 

* * *

 

A few days later, after classes and stress and everything else in his life stopped taking up all his time, Lance finally sat down with his yarn and his book and tried to figure out how to make the instructions work for a hamster-sized hammock.

 

Macramé, it turned out, was  _ hard _ . Making a bunch of knots seemed easy enough, no strange equipment involved, and he could make knots, so he figured he was fine.

 

Looking at the bunches of hopelessly knotted yarn that surrounded him, Lance was starting to think he wasn’t fine. But every time he started to get frustrated, every time he got another massive tangle, every time he thought about giving up, he looked over at Red, asleep in a mound.

 

That little fuzzy lump was his family, someone he loved, and he wanted to show his love. He wanted to give Red the cozy dream. Red had given Lance so much -- had given him love, had given him  _ Keith _ \-- and he would give her just as much love in return.

 

With a sigh, he turned back to his books, calculated how much yarn he  _ actually  _ needed, and set about making some knots.

 

* * *

 

That summer, Red dozed frequently in her soft, felted, pretty red hammock. It would sway in the breeze that came in the open window, and Lance would look at her and smile. When he and Keith made plans to visit a beach, someday, to have that cozy vacation Lance dreamed about, he thought of Red and her hammock and smiled.

 

That winter, Lance and Keith sent out a holiday e-card, with a picture of the three of them -- Lance, Keith, and Red -- all wearing matching red (slightly lumpy) scarves.


End file.
